Inevitability
by Mythique
Summary: Bethany was not surprised to find a Templar on the doorstep after her sister went off to the Deep Roads. The only surprise was that it took so long for him to get there. How will she cope without her family and friends, in a place where the simplest mistake can result in a fate worse than death?
1. One Crowded Hour

Chapter One: One Crowded Hour

She always knew this day would come.

Yes, for all her family's skill at running and fighting, hiding and evading, Bethany Hawke knew that her days as an apostate were finite. To her, freedom was a tenuous and unreliable thing; after all, how free are you if you must constantly look over your shoulder?

You don't need bars to make a cage.

So when the heavy-handed knock sounded at her Uncle Gamlen's door, Bethany was not surprised that the Templars had come. Rather, she was surprised it had taken them _so long_ to do so. No doubt her sister's absence had made the mage hunters bold. It could not be a coincidence that they had come now; they had to have recognized her as an apostate the moment she set foot in this cesspool of a city.

Nineteen years was a good run, all things considered. Not many 'free' mages could boast of such an achievement. Bethany owed her father a great deal.

Bethany noticed with concern the anxiety of her uncle and mother. They recognized the knock for what it was, too. Only the Templars managed to turn a simple rap on the door into a sound that conveyed authority, arrogance, and aggression all at the same time.

"You'd better get the door, my girl," Gamlen said gruffly. "There's no point delaying the inevitable."

"No, no…" murmured Leandra. "Bethy, there's still time to hide. We'll wait for Elinor to return."

"No, Mother, it's over," Bethany said, giving Leandra a sad smile. "And I'm tired of running."

The knock came again, louder and more insistent. If Bethany dawdled any longer, they'd kick the door in. She did not waver as she stood and walked over to open the door. Behind her, her mother had already started to cry.

Bethany _was_ surprised to see the Knight-Captain himself at the door, and alone. She was expecting one of the lower-ranked knights and a few Templar recruits – a training exercise in how to apprehend a sinful apostate.

"Good afternoon, Ser Cullen," she said. "I've been waiting for you."

If the Knight-Captain was surprised by Bethany's statement, he did not show it. He simply bowed politely. "Miss Hawke, may I come in?" He had a set of aqua-coloured robes tucked neatly under one arm.

"Of course," Bethany replied, standing aside. "Can't say no to a Templar, can I?"

Cullen gave her an intense gaze as he passed by her. "That would depend on what the Templar was asking, I should think."

"You can't take her!" Leandra announced suddenly. "You can't. I won't lose another child!" She moved to take hold of the Knight-Captain's hands, as though to manhandle him back out the door, but Gamlen restrained her.

"I'm sorry, Serah," Cullen said, not unkindly, "but the law is what it is. Your daughter must come with me. You should be grateful that Knight-Commander Meredith has decided to show compassion and not prosecute you for harbouring a known apostate. If your elder daughter had not been so helpful to the city, such a kindness would not have been shown."

Bethany winced as her mother collapsed against her uncle, all fight gone from her. The Templar turned to Bethany and handed her the robes. "You will need to put this on, and then come with me."

"Am I allowed to bring anything?"

"Anything that can fit in a small bag or carried in your hands, subject to inspection and approval by the Knight-Commander," Cullen replied. "No weapons, except for your staff."

Bethany gave a curt nod and took the robes. She slipped into the small room she shared with her mother and sister, and changed into what would become her life-long uniform. She tried to calm racing heart and rapid breathing. Even though she was not surprised by her capture, she was still afraid. Of all the places to be forced into a Circle, Kirkwall was the worst. Even Orlais, the centre of Chantry rule, would have been preferable.

There was a sharp pain in Bethany's heart as she thought of what could have been if the Blight had not forced them here. The Hero of Ferelden, her own cousin, no less, had freed the mages from the Chantry and Templar control. She could have lived the life she had always dreamed about – a life with no secrets, no running, no constant anxiety, and a family of her own perhaps.

Bethany shook her head sharply. _It's pointless to grieve over what-ifs, _she thought. She grabbed her small backpack and began packing up her meagre belongings. It did not take long; a few pairs of underclothes, socks, the enchanted belt that Isabela had 'obtained' for her, a few books, the copy of the Chant that she'd saved from their house in Lothering. Her most prized possession was the portrait of her mother that Elinor had rescued from the old Amell estate, but she did not want to risk taking it to the Gallows only to have it confiscated or destroyed.

She heard her mother beseeching the Knight-Captain again. "Calm yourself, good woman," the Templar replied, in what Bethany could only assume was his attempt at a comforting tone. It still sounded far too stern and aloof to her. "Your daughter has no reason to fear me."

Bethany snorted in disbelief. The man was lucky her sister was not around, not to mention Anders. He'd have a dagger in his back before he knew it, and then his corpse would be subjected to a very long-winded, very tiresome lecture on the evils that the Templar Order perpetrate on poor, hapless mages.

Not for the first time, Bethany wished that her sister had taken her on her expedition to the Deep Roads, but Elinor Hawke could be so overprotective sometimes, and by 'sometimes' she meant 'all the time'.

When she had gathered all that she thought she could get away with, and picked up her staff, Bethany returned to the main living area. "I am ready," she announced, moving to her mother's side.

"Oh, Bethany," her mother said, embracing her. "My darling girl."

"It will be okay, Mother. You'll see."

"That's the spirit!" Gamlen said, clapping her on the back. His upbeat tone fooled nobody. Bethany pulled away from her mother and placed a kiss on her uncle's cheek. She was about to speak when the door flew open.

"Mother, Bethy! You'll never believe guess what we found down there!" Elinor Hawke exclaimed as she bounded inside, covered in blood and filth, but smiling happily. The grin fell from her face as she took in the scene before her; a sobbing mother, a grim uncle, the Knight-Captain of the Templars, and, finally, her little sister, clad in the ugly-ass robes of the Circle.

Bethany sighed in resignation. Her sister always did have the worst timing.

* * *

**A/N – **it's amazing how my muse works. I have had hardly any interest in Bethany as a character before – on my first playthrough she died in the Deep Roads, and in subsequent games I didn't use her very often – but the other day I decided I absolutely had to write a Bethany/Cullen story. Weird.

One of my favourite things about DA is how memorable a lot of the minor characters are, like Cullen and Bann Teagan for example. I'd really like it if Cullen was a companion in Inquisition.

I had originally planned to write a series of one-shots, but ultimately decided to go with a multi-chapter story. I apologize for my Missing Word Disease – I do try and catch any mistakes in editing, but sometimes some mistakes go.


	2. The Gallows

Chapter 2 – Off to the Gallows

"What in Andraste's name is going on here?" Hawke demanded. It was a rhetorical question. The way she was glaring at the Knight-Captain made it perfectly clear she knew _exactly_ what was going on.

"Don't bother, Eli," Bethany said firmly. Elinor looked at her in shock. She went to argue her, but was silenced by her sister's upraised hand. "Kirkwall is not the place to pick a fight with a Templar. We both knew this day was coming, Elinor. Accept it, mother needs you to be calm right now."

The mention of their mother caused Elinor to back down, but not before she gave Bethany a look of stubborn reproach. Bethany did not flinch. "If you didn't want _him_ to take me away, perhaps _you _ should not have forced me to stay."

Bethany regretted the words as soon as they'd left her mouth, especially when she saw her sister's wounded expression. "I'm sorry, sister, I didn't mean that. It's just… this is hard enough as it is. Please, don't complicate things further.

Elinor nodded, a light of sympathy flaring in her bright blue-green eyes. She ran a hand over her dark brown pigtails before reaching out and tugging one of Bethany's ebony curls. "Be careful, Bethy."

"I will, Eli," Bethany replied. "I promise."

* * *

Bethany was relieved to find none of her friends waiting outside. Word travels fast in Kirkwall, and Templar movements did not go unnoticed, especially in Lowtown. By the number of city guards about, she was certain that Aveline, at least, had heard the news and had exercised some of her new-found authority. It was probably done to prevent Anders from causing a scene or staging a rescue. Aveline was yet to be convinced that the ex-Gray Warden was not a threat to public safety.

She briefly wondered how the others would react when they found out. Merrill would probably be the most upset; Bethany was the one who visited her the most, and did not harangue her about her use of blood magic. Fenris would most likely be the least upset: while the angsty elf did not treat her with as much hostility as he did Anders and Merrill, he was never particularly kind, either. Varric would probably turn the event into a tale; a pretty, young mage dragged off to her doom by a wicked Templar.

Poor Knight-Captain Cullen.

Isabela would also be telling tales, except her stories would be far more risqué; innocent, young virgin mages dragged into a life of sin and debauchery by perverted Templars.

Poor, _poor_ Knight-Captain Cullen.

Aveline would worry, hiding her concern and mother-hen tendencies behind her Guard-Captain façade. She'd probably try to get guards stationed at the Gallows just to keep an out on the younger Hawke. Sebastian, Elinor's newest friend, and the one whom Bethany thought her sister was interested in romantically, would think that all was as it should be, his belief in the Chantry unshakable.

It was Ander's reaction that concerned Bethany the most. His anger at the Templars grew daily, and she was afraid he'd eventually do something drastic. He and Bethany shared a lot of opinions regarding the plight of mage's, but Anders was far more militant than she was, and did not have her level of faith in the Maker. She hoped Elinor would be able to keep him calm. He always listened to Eli.

As she and the Knight-Captain made their first steps into the bustling alleyways of Lowtown, there was a loud thump from behind them, followed by a long piercing wail of grief.

* * *

Cullen had just reached the top of the stone steps leading down from Gamlen Amell's house when he heard Leandra Hawke's grief-filled scream. It was a heartbreaking sound, and Cullen, not a heartless bastard whatever rumours to the contrary said, felt it deeply. He made a slight misstep as he saw Bethany Hawke pause as if to turn back. He took her arm firmly and gave her a look of warning. For a moment it looked as if she might argue, but then her shoulders slumped and, pulling herself free from his grasp, she resumed walking.

This was the hardest part of Cullen's job, but it had to be done. It was his duty, and he was a dutiful man. Once, he may have been inclined to treat mages and their families with more sympathy, but if his time Ferelden had taught him anything, it was that rules could not be relaxed, especially where mage's were concerned. One could not be swayed by the tears or desperate pleas of family and friends, no matter how they tugged at the heart strings.

Cullen glanced at the Hawke girl and wondered if it was easier on her and her family for her to be sent to the Circle as an adult rather than a child. She had been allowed to grow up with her sister and parents. Her mother had seen her turn from a little girl into a pretty young lady. Miss Hawke would have experienced a lot of things most mages could only ever dream about, though Cullen knew that her life as an apostate would never have been easy.

Perhaps it was harder. Miss Hawke was still quite young, nineteen or twenty, at most, but she had reached the age when mothers begin to plan for suitable marriages and dream of grandchildren by the armful. Perhaps she had dreams of her own.

Cullen shook his head, not liking where his thoughts were taking him. _It does not matter if it is easier or harder, _he thought harshly. _If it is harder, they have only themselves to blame. They knew the law, and chose to flout it._

He took a moment to appraise the apostate at his side. She was shorter than him by about a head, with shoulder length, black curly hair. She was quite beautiful, but Cullen knew all too well what often lurked behind the pretty faces of mages. Her eyes were her most striking feature, a vivid shade of what could only be called amber.

Her demeanor was one of quiet calm, tough Cullen could tell she was very anxious – the constant chewing of her bottom lip and the twisting of her fingers gave her away. Her behaviour inside her uncle's house demonstrated that she had a bit of steel in her spine, and shared some of her sister's sass.

He appreciated her willingness to co cooperate with him. Mage sympathizers were gaining more and more ground in Kirkwall lately, and the last thing the Order needed was for the Knight-Captain to be seen dragging a kicking and screaming apostate through the streets, especially when that apostate happened to be both young and pretty, and Elinor Hawke's little sister.

He hoped her attitude would remain once she reached the Gallows.

* * *

They walked in silence for a while, before Bethany's nerves forced her act. Looking at the Knight-Captain's inscrutable expression, she asked, "What will happen when we get to the Gallows?" Her voice was shaky, almost timid. "Will I be imprisoned, or made tranquil?"

"You will meet with Knight-Commander Meredith and First Enchanter Orsino. Your fate is in their hands." Hearing Miss Hawke's frightened gasp, he added, "However, I think it highly unlikely that you will be made tranquil. I know rumour has it that we put every apostate we find through the Rite, but that is pure nonsense. If you pass your harrowing, you'll be fine."

Bethany was grateful for Cullen's answer, but her fears remained. _The Harrowing? _How long would she have to prepare? What is she failed? Would Cullen be the one to strike her down if she became an abomination? What if she couldn't be stopped and went on an unholy rampage through the Free Marches?

* * *

Cullen watched in alarm as the young mage began to unravel before his eyes. She looked on the verge of a panic attack. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration as he contemplated the Knight-Commander's reaction to having a hysterical apostate mage deposited in her office. His mood darkened as he heard snippets of the conversations happening around them.

"Poor girl…"

"Templar bastard…"

"It's just not right…"

Cullen bit back a retort. These people would never understand! What the Order did was for their safety, to protect them from a danger they knew precious little about. He needed to calm the girl down, for both their sakes.

"May I ask you a question, Miss Hawke?"

"Bethany."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Call me Bethany. I hate being called Miss Hawke. Or Serah. Or Messere."

"All right then, Mis… Bethany," Cullen continued. "Your mother mentioned losing another child. You had a mage sibling taken by the Templars?" Cullen knew he'd asked the wrong question when he saw Bethany's face grow pale. Tears welled in her eyes as her lips parted in shock.

"No, no," she whispered sadly. "She meant Carver, my twin brother. He and Elinor both survived Ostagar, but during our escape from Lothering he was killed protecting Mother from an ogre." The tears slid down her white cheeks, and she raised a trembling hand to stifle her sobs.

The furious muttering increased around him. _Great, _Cullen thought. _Can this day get any worse?_

* * *

**A/N – **Poor Cullen. The pace should pick up a bit in the next chapter. Reviews etc are always appreciated.


	3. The Harrowing

It got a lot worse.

By the time Cullen and Bethany reached the docks, the weather had turned nasty. As a result, the trip across the harbour was very rough… and Cullen was prone to seasickness. He attempted to control the dizziness and rapidly rising nausea by keeping his mouth firmly closed and his eyes rained on the mage opposite him.

Unfortunately for Cullen, Bethany had noticed his predicament and, in a fit of pique, decided to do all she could to aggravate his condition. Realizing that the templar was using her as an anchoring point, Bethany began to rock slowly from side to side, while commenting on how rough the sea was.

"Knight-Captain, are you sure you're all right?" Bethany asked with wide-eyed concern and an entirely too-innocent-to-be-believed smile. "You're looking rather green."

"I am _perfectly fine,_ Miss Hawke," Cullen ground out. "Thank you for your concern." He refused to let this mage get the better of him. If he showed her any weakness, no doubt she'd exploit it for her own gain. Mages were like that. Templars needed to be strong at all times in order to maintain control.

"I'm glad to hear it," Bethany replied sweetly. She knew what she was doing was childish, but considering what this man was doing to her, she refused to feel guilty about it. _Why should I make this easy for him?_

* * *

Knight-Commander Meredith was _the _most intimidating person Bethany had ever met. She was so rigid and unyielding that she appeared even taller than she actually was. Her eyes were cold, hard, unforgiving, and completely unreadable. Bethany tried hard to maintain eye contact, to show the templar leader that she was not afraid, but she couldn't do it. And, truthfully, she _was _ afraid of Meredith. Meredith was everything people had said whe was, and more – all of it bad. Varric would never need exaggerate about her.

"Youre Bethany Hawke, correct?" Meredith asked in her cool, clipped voice. "An apostate, like your father?"

"Yes, ma'am," Bethany replied, trying not to betray her sudden flash of anger at the older woman's contemptuous reference to Bethany's father.

"I see," the Knight-Commander said. She tapped her fingers on the heavy wooden surface of her desk. She glared at Bethany as if the mage were an abomination already. "And you came here from Ferelden?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Did you spend any time at the Circle there?"

"No, ma'am."

"Surely you knew you'd be caught eventually? Why didn't you declare yourself sooner?"

"I wanted to spend as much time with my family as possible."

"You were selfish in other words," Meredith snapped. "You put others at risk for the sake of your own comfort."

Bethany opened her mouth to argue, to say that she had done no such thing, but then closed it with an audible snap when she saw the almost maniacal glint in the other woman's eye. _She's goading me! She wants me to snap before I even have a chance at a Harrowing. She wants me tranquil and out of the way._

"I… I guess I was."

"Hmmph," Meredith snorted. "Cullen, take her to Orsino."

"Yes, Kinght-Commander."

* * *

Orsino was everything Bethany thought a First Enchanter should be; he was intelligent, kind, and thoughtful. He also lacked that aura of malevolence that surrounded Meredith, which was a blessing in itself. After he had been introduced to Bethany, the First Enchanter gave her a long, thoughtful look.

"Have you had any formal training in magic at all?" he asked.

"No, serah,, the only teacher I ever had was my father," Bethany replied. "He taught me everything he knew. He did spend some time in the Circle before he and my mother eloped, though."

Orsino smiled at the wistful tone Bethany adopted when speaking of her parents, then sighed. "Normally, when an adult mage arrives at the Gallows I would evaluate their level of skill and education before determining a suitable time for a Harrowing. However, in her infinite wisdom, Knight-Commander Meredith has decided that it should be the other way around."

"She wants us to fail," Bethany said quietly. "That way she can just kill us. What's one more dead mage to her?"

Cullen gave a sharp cough, not because he disagreed with what Bethany had said, exactly, but because it was a dangerous topic for the mages to be discussing, especially her.

"Yes, well… moving on," Orsino said. "Your harrowing will be tomorrow morning, Bethany, after breakfast."

"What?!" Bethany cried. "Tomorrow?" Orsino nodded, his green eyes full of sympathy.

"I'm sorry, child," he said, "but my hands are tied, as they say. Knight-Captain Cullen will be overseeing your harrowing and taking the necessary steps should you fail. Not that I think you will. I have confidence; you would not have lasted very long as an apostate if you were weak-willed."

Bethany was pleased with the First Enchanter's vote of confidence, but could not help giving the Knight-Captain a glance that was part worried resignation and part 'haven't you done enough?'.

The templar was as inscrutable as ever.

* * *

Betahny's first night in the Gallows was a restless one. Because she was undergoing her harrowing the next day, she was given a private room. It was not much bigger than a closet, and it it felt very claustrophobic. The air was hot and stale, and smelt like dirty socks. Perhaps it _had_ been a closet.

She never thought she'd miss living in her Uncle's hovel, but she did. She missed falling asleep to the sound of her mother's gentle snoring, or giggling with Elinor in the darkness. She even missed the thought of being woken up in the morning by the family of rats that lived in their ceiling.

By the time the clocks struck midnight, she'd long since given up on sleep. With a pang of nostalgia, she remembered the nights spent playing Wicked Grace at the Hanged Man. On those nights, she and Elinor were only just getting _home _at midnight - if they'd had bad luck.

She tried counting sheep, counting backwards, and every relaxation exercise she could think of, to no avail. At the rate things were going, she'd fail her harrowing because a sloth demon offered her a good night's sleep!

Bethany's thoughts turned to the harrowing. Mages were forbidden from talking about the ritual with unharrowed apprentices. Her father once told her it was to prevent unsuitable or ill-prepared people from attempting a harrowing on their own.

Thoughts of failure weighed heavily on Bethany. At first, she had been irritated by the knowledge that it would be Cullen running her through if she failed, but now she was grateful. It could have been a lot worse. Other templars seemed to revel in the misery they caused, and delighted in tormenting the mages of the Circle. They lived for the authority they lorded over the vulnerable, especially in Kirkwall, where the Order trod heavily through the corridors of power.

But not Cullen.

In all her family's dealings with the Knight-Captain, the templar had shown himself to be an honourable man. He was always polite, if a little aloof, and treated them with respect. He was stern, and rigid, with an unwavering sense of duty, and a fondness for rules and regulations.

His one big flaw was a lack of mercy and compassion where mages were concerned, though even that was tempered by the fact that he was never deliberately cruel or unkind, just dedicated to the Order. And he never rejoiced in having to kill a mage either.

Perhaps he thought the Circle was the only mercy that could be shown to a mage.

Either way, Bethany gained some comfort from knowing that if Cullen did have to kill her, at least he wouldn't do a happy dance afterwards. As she finally drifted into a light sleep, she couldn't help wondering if, once upon a time, his beautiful blue eyes had been as kind as Ser Thrask's.

* * *

Even in the Fade, Bethany's robe itched. She frowned and scratched her shoulders while looking around at the washed-out scenery. It felt like she had been here for years, and it was difficult maintaining a positive outlook, despite already resisting the offers of a sloth and a pride demon.

The sloth demon was the easier of the two to deal with – it had promised restful slumber, free of dreams of unobtainable things. The offer was appealing, but considering acceptance meant Cullen's sword through her stomach, it quickly lost its charms.

The pride demon was defeated by Bethany's lack of ego. She had always shared her mother's humility. She knew she was a good mage, but did not feel the need to seek vindication, recognition, or approval from others. Carver had the ego in the Hawke family, and Elinor had self-confidence enough for everyone.

Bethany walked until she came to a small clearing. The surroundings were particularly distorted here, and the air shimmered and smelled wrong. There was a faint rustling sound, and a desire demon rose up from the earth. It smiled seductively and ran its hands over its purple-tinged skin.

"Hello there, dear mortal," she said in a husky voice that sounded as if two people were speaking simultaneously. "My name is Voluptas. May I speak with you a while? I do so love the company of mages."

Bethany shivered and grasped her staff. Desire demons were the _worst_. "No, thank you," she said, voice firm. Her father had taught her early on that confidence and fearlessness were essential when dealing with demons, desire demons in particular. They could sense weakness and were ruthless in exploiting it. "There is nothing you can offer me that I'd accept, demon!"

"My, my," taunted Voluptas, waving her tail languidly through the air, "such confidence from such a young woman. I can see there's no possible way to trick _you_." The demon grinned wickedly and licked her lips.

Bethany raised her staff, but she was too slow…

* * *

**A/N – **if my memory serves me well, Voluptas is Latin for 'pleasure', and was the name of Eros and Psyche's daughter.


	4. Unexpected

Bethany gasped at how quickly the world around her changed. One moment she was surrounded by the surreal haze of the Fade, the next she was in a beautiful, low-walled garden. The air was crisp and clean and smelled like elfroot and lavender. In the distance she could see a small wooded area, and when she turned to the left she could see the great stone walls of Denerim. Behind her was a house, a picturesque double storeyed cottage with doors and windows framed by glorious climbing roses. It looked almost exactly like the Hawke's house in Lothering.

She looked down at herself; a simple but well-tailored purple dress covered by an apron. In her hand she carried a basket filled to the brim with medicinal herbs. _This... this isn't real, is it? It can't be._

Bethany took a few tentative steps forward and reached a hand out to touch some embrium. _I shouldn't be able to grow this here, _she thought. The leaves trembled at her touch. _They feel real._

She turned around as she heard the sound of boots on the garden path and a gate being opened and closed. A man came into view, but Bethany could not make out his face. All she could tell was that he was tall and fair-haired, and was dressed like a knight in King Alistair's service. At his heels trotted a mabari, who gave a happy bark when he spied Bethany.

Bethany felt her heart start to race as the man came closer. _His face... why can't I see his face? _ The man reached out and drew her into an embrace.

"Hello, my love. How glad I am to be home at last." His voice was _so _familiar, and it sent a wave of pure longing right through Bethany's heart. He bent down and kissed her cheek before moving his lips to her own. Her eyes closed, her heart a wild animal thrashing in a cage.

They stood together for a long moment and, when the kiss ended, Bethany was smiling. She opened her eyes and the man's face slowly came into focus. She froze, almost forgetting to draw breath.

It was Knight-Captain Cullen.

Bethany took a hasty step backwards. "You aren't real," she whispered, and was surprised by how heartbroken her voice sounded.

"Bethany, sweetheart, what's wrong?" pseudo-Cullen asked, reaching for her. Bethany slapped his hands away.

"You're not real... YOU ARE NOT REAL!" Bethany screamed. Cullen scowled, and then he was gone.

* * *

Cullen frowned slightly at Bethany Hawke's sleeping form as it lay in the middle of a magic circle. For the first fifteen minutes she was quiet and still, and it looked like her harrowing would be as quick and clean as the Hero of Fereldan's had been.

And then she smiled.

The templar raised an eyebrow and glanced at the First Enchanter, but Orsino did not seem concerned.

It was not a happy smile; rather it was wistful and full of yearning. Cullen wondered what it was she was being offered, and hoped it wasn't enough to tempt the girl. He had no problem with Bethany as an individual, and also enjoyed being able to call her sister 'friend'. Friends were few and far between for a man like Cullen, and the friendship will have been strained enough by Bethany's removal to the Circle. Somehow, he couldn't see it surviving him killing the mage, even if she had turned into an abomination.

The smile had not lasted long, replaced with a puzzled frown. Bethany's lips moved silently and her whole body tensed. Her hands dug into her robes and became fists. Her body arched slightly then slumped back down as the magic circle glowed silver.

"She's about to wake," Orsino said, and Cullen's hand drifted to his sword. Last minute catastrophes had been known to happen.

Cullen watched in confusion as the girl woke but did not open her eyes. She lay there, breathing heavily for a few minutes, chanting softly, "It's not real, it's not real." Cullen walked over and knelt down next to the girl. He put a hand on her shoulder and shook it firmly.

Bethany's eyes flew open as she felt someone shake her. She came face to face with the Knight-Captain and screamed. "You are not real!" She jumped to her feet.

"Calm yourself, mage," Cullen warned, reaching out to restrain Bethany, but she shrunk back from him. When he tried again, she raised her arm... and punched him in the face.

* * *

As he exited the Knight-Commander's office later that evening, First Enchanter Orsino let out a long and very relieved sigh. While he was exceptionally grateful to discover that life still held some surprises for him, he knew just how badly that morning's harrowing could have gone, even though it was successful. Miss Hawke was fortunate indeed that it was Knight-Captain Cullen who had supervised her. Any other templar would have killed her the moment she punched them, or reported her to Meredith. The Knight-Commander was not a woman who took chances and showed mercy; Bethany would have executed or made tranquil. Of that, Orsino was certain.

It had taken Orsino a while to calm Miss Hawke down; her harrowing must have been truly horrifying. After a while she had managed to stammer out a mortified apology to Knight-Captain Cullen, who had accepted it graciously, along with Orsino's offer of healing. More importantly, he had agreed to Orsino's request not to inform Meredith of what had occurred.

The First Enchanter was becoming more and more grateful for the Knight-Captain's quick rise through the templar ranks. While the young man was not exactly a friend to the mages, as Ser Thrask was, nor was he a danger to them like Ser Alrik. He was a man that Orsino could appreciate, even respect, as he was one of the few templars who remembered that their duty also involved protecting the mages, not just the mundane community. He was a man able to rein in the more radical elements of the order, and offset some of Meredith's severity.

Orsino was forced out of his musings when he noticed that his office door was ajar. Taking his distinctive staff in hand, he cautiously entered the room, only to be left disconcerted by the sight before him. Sitting in his favourite chair was a curvaceous, dark-skinned woman wearing thigh-high leather boots, a lot of gold jewellery, and not much else. Her legs were crossed and she was playing idly with one of his athames.

The First Enchanter gave a soft cough. "May I be of assistance?" he asked. The woman looked up at him and gave him a smile that could only be described as _shameless_.

"You sure can, handsome," she said, more seductive than any desire demon. "Tell me, how did our little Sunshine go?"

* * *

**A/N - ** I love Isabela!

Next chapter: Bethany settles into life in life in the Gallows, while Cullen wonders what he did to deserve a punch in the face. Plus, more of Isabela's shenanigans.


End file.
